


Shell Games

by AceQueenKing



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Racing, Slice of Life, Teasing, Turtles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28901454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: Charon held out one wide hand. "Hrrrrrrghhh!" He said, eloquently; or, perhaps not that eloquently, but: it was music to Hermes' ears regardless. He flitted away, knowing it would drive the man crazy."None of that yet, my professional associate," Hermes said, smirking. "You have to win the race first!"
Relationships: Charon/Hermes (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 71
Collections: Hades Rural Dionysia Exchange





	Shell Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thirsty4percy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirsty4percy/gifts).



Hermes tucked Chelly securely into his bag of scrolls, careful to make sure that the little turtle was in the best spot: not buried underneath all the messages -- surely uncomfortable, though Hermes, never having been a turtle covertly stuffed into a messenger's bag, could only guess at the comfort, Chelly was not much of a talker -- but neither was the precious turtle too close to the top, frozen by Hermes' jumping from realm to realm. He was quite used to no one being able to keep up with himself, not that he was one to brag about his speed, but he was certainly quite fast by animal standards, particularly among turtles and tortoises. Chelly was thus nicely nestled in a little carefully made house of scrolls; Hermes smiled and prepared to run off down to the underworld.

It was becoming his favorite place.

He'd always been soft on it, mind; Hades was pleasantly short in his orders and Hermes liked the thought that he was helping the shades. Most of them were chatty, which made the time pass quickly, and since they were dead and thus didn't have any weight to them, well, they were light to carry. He liked it when his job was easier.

And he liked seeing Charon a lot too. While Hermes always enjoyed a conversation -- or two, or three, of sixteen -- he also appreciated the gentle lapping of the waves, the slow groan of infinity being spilled forth from a lover's skull. Hermes had layers. Charon did, too. 

And Charon seemed to have rather lovely thoughts, even if no one else quite paid much attention to him. Hermes had grown soft on the boatman; strong, not-quite silent type. Knew when to talk and when not to; he could keep up with Hermes. Hermes sped down the steps to the underworld, flying over the water where Charon plied his primary trade.

 _Chaaaaah_ , Charon offered in greeting. It was hard to sneak up on the man; Charon's hearing was immaculate. 

“Chaaaaah!” Hermes grinned. "Salutations!" Charon bent his hand out into the water, a wordless invitation to climb aboard. Hermes stretched his arms - he appreciated this about the underworld too, that the many rivers left more room to stretch when one was floating, and less room for hallways full of important brothers, sisters, and cousins, and aunties and uncles and all sorts of people who one had to avoid, no matter how fast one wanted to go. He stretched out his legs, perhaps -- _perhaps -- saucily showing off his_ new band that he'd worn over his thigh. Charon's eyes glimmered like purple amethysts deep down in the depths -- he'd noticed immediately.

Hermes smirked. He knew what the man liked, and he liked that the man noticed all the subtleties. Charon held out one wide hand. _Hrrrrrrghhh!_ He said, eloquently; or, perhaps not that eloquently, but: it was music to his ears regardless. He flitted away, knowing it would drive the man crazy.

"None of that yet, my professional associate," Hermes said, smirking. "You have to win the race first!" He winked, knowing this, too, was a cruel tease, but one he enjoyed doing so much he could not find it in himself to regret it.

 _Grrgh!_ Charon said. He waved his arms wide. _Chyaaaaaah!_ _You're on_ could not be expressed in any truer language. Hermes grinned; the underworld was so nice for flying. His winged feet jetted forward with a great burst of speed; he pushed off against the shore, and the earth's rock shuddered in response, but it held. Charon, no slouch himself with such large and muscular arms, paddled as hard as he could. And it was easy to see, of the underworld deities, only Charon really understood the waters of the underworld: they rippled under those sizable arms. He waved the oar toward Hermes, splashing him with more than a little bit of water. This had the effect of making Hermes cold, and his clothing more see-through, and he was certain Charon had done it mostly for the second effect.

It still knocked him back a couple of paces.

"Cheater!" He screeched, but he didn't say much more, concentrating instead on breathing as Charon paddled. The tip of the boat pressed ahead of him, and he laughed aloud, knowing that Hades wouldn't venture this far out to yell at him as his own lord father might. Zeus' chambers echoed, but Zeus had little open space like this.

Hermes fell back half a hair—just enough to let Charon think he might win. The boyfriend did get rather pouty if Hermes didn't make it close and even Hermes, who was very glad to show off his talents when given a chance to, purposefully waited before daring to pull too far ahead. They were neck and neck across the Styx for half the flow of the bloody river; Charon's rippling arms bristling with strength. The man simply did not tire.

He took a look at the spirits clinging to Charon's boats: most of them were holding on for their—well, after-lives, he supposed. He did not think shades _could_ have white knuckles, but one blob held onto the edge as tightly as a little spirit could. He winked; the spirit gave him a troubled look, but it was damnably cute. Human souls were so adorable.

Charon had taken advantage of his distraction, reaching two-foot-tips ahead, and now the shore-line was in sight; Hermes pivoted nimbly and unleashed his full speed. He jumped on the edge of Charon's boat; it rocked back, giving him precious time to sit at the very tip of it. He thought himself a very good figurehead, standing at the prow for good luck, but Charon cried out _Chaaaaaaah!_ as they reached the shore.

"It's not cheating," Hermes said. Charon gesticulated it was very much so but didn't seem too upset when Hermes shot him a winning smile. "Not any more than a man getting _splashed_ with ice-cold Styx water." He gestured down to his quite stained chiton. "Now look. Everyone will think I've been in a fight or worse, was clumsy."

 _Glarrrggghhhh!_ Charon said again, this time the wordless cry a protest: _who would believe anyone could harm you?_

A fair point, a fair point. Hermes smirked. He liked to believe he was pretty darn adorable, but when it came down to it, he could hold his own. As Charon knew; they'd had a few fun encounters in his little personal space, Charon flicking coins at him with abandon. Fun times, but not something he could do with Chelly in the bag, unfortunately.

 _Mrgh_ , Charon offered, eloquently.

"Thank you for conceding, my good associate." He used his flight in what his father would perhaps lecture was a bit too much of a show-off of his power and fluttered in mid-air as he pressed a kiss to his boyfriend's cheek.

 _Mrsskh!_ Charon said; it was a good thing his face was a bit skeletal, or Hermes suspected he would have caught a blush across those cheeks. Charon's fingers thumbed quickly against his thigh band; it was shiny, and gold, and everything Charon appreciated _. Chaah?_

"Not yet." Hermes smiled. "This reminds me though, I've got someone to introduce to you." He fumbled through the bag before pulling out Chelly, who seemed perhaps a bit relieved to be out of the race. Well. Maybe. It was admittedly hard to tell with a turtle. He brandished Chelly toward Charon, who held the little turtle up to the light.

 _Shaarrrgggghh!_ Charon said, staring at Chelly as if the little turtle was a perfect jewel.

"I agree, she _is_ very pretty." He supposed, really, Charon didn't get to see much of the river life. Wasn't a lot of fish this far in the underworld, and the one time he'd gotten a nibble on one it had turned out to be a fire slug—not very fun. Certainly not as fun as Chelly.

 _Chrrgghh_ , Charon purred, and Hermes felt a golden blush blossom across his cheeks. Wasn't every day your boyfriend told you you were far more beautiful than the object of his current fascination—if, perhaps, in that unique way that only Charon ever quite found a way to say. He leaned over Charon's shoulder, and the two stood there for a long moment, oblivious to calls of souls upon the other end of the shore, already calling for the boatman. He would have to go soon, Hermes knew, and Hermes himself felt the pull of the call toward the house of Hades—for whatever his other faults, Hades always wanted his mail delivered on time.

But he was not quite yet ready to go. Neither was Charon, he suspected, who continued to rub his hands over Chelly. She liked him, too, Hermes could tell: the little turtle was calm in those skilled, gnarled hands. He supposed it was fitting; Charon was used to aquatic beings, and probably smelled a bit of the sea himself. That said sea was underwater and, at points, _on fire_ , seemed to matter little to the little turtle.

"I found her, you know." He took advantage of the moment, and Charon's full hands, snuggling into his side and whispering in his ear for no reason other than that Hermes could. "Out among the reeds in the little islands that my uncle Poseidon so favors. Little thing was left there all her own. Seemed a shame no one looked after her, and well—"

 _Glrrrgk!_ Charon interrupted.

"Well, yes, I _do_ have a soft heart." Charon groaned and he shoved at him playfully.

"Oy, don't start. You're not any better than me, Mr. Sells the Prince Everything under the Sun! Where do you even _get_ all those god boons? Does _everyone_ owe you a favor?"

The normally loquacious Charon glared back at him but said nothing. _Grk_ , he finally intoned; Hermes supposed that explained everything, if only in Charon's own way.

 _Skrgh!_ Charon insisted, and Hermes nodded along.

"Yes, I quite like cuz, too. He's a good egg. And with him around, I'm not the shortest one in the family, so that's quite nice!" Charon had never had to worry about such, lanky lummox that he was; he was sure he was taller than Hypnos and Thanatos.

He thought of Hypnos, and remembered the letter still sitting in his bag for lord Hades, who was sure to notice that he was a bit late now.

"I should be going," Hermes said, and he knew he sounded sad. He wasn't looking forward to the personal responsibility lecture that Hades would no doubt feel the need to bestow on him, on _personal responsibility_ and how if Hermes just _applied_ himself. It was bad enough getting that lecture from dad! Not to mention Hades giving this speech when Zagreus seemed to be spending half his time, if Hermes was any judge by the brief time they met up, smashing his father's pots and denizens of his father's realm—well. Pot and kettle were painted the same color in Mr. Hades family, weren't they?

 _Rrrrgh_ , Charon replied; he understood. He felt the same. One glance over at Charon's shore showed that there were plenty of souls already lining up to take their place on Charon's boat. That was the problem with an underworld beau; people were always dying to get in, he supposed. Except for Zagreus, who seemed to be dying to get out, sometimes quite literally. Heh.

Charon gently handed him back Chelly; Hermes tucked her back in his bag, safe and sound, and nestled snugly between the lightest letters and the heaviest.

 _Grkkgh?_ Charon asked; he looked up, surprised. It wasn't like Charon to initiate dates; asking, as he just had, was even more unusual. Charon wasn't looking at him, over-busily preparing to cast off in his boat. He supposed it was inevitable that with Hermes as his boyfriend, Chaorn would always be the less loquatious one. 

"Of course," Hermes said, still quick of tongue even if he was a bit stunned. He smiled wide. "Chelly and I would be honored to drop by for dinner after I finish this mailbag."

 _Grghh!_ _Urrrkkksh!_ Charon replied, clearly pleased; Hermes knew that Chelly would look forward to the lettuce. He paused. _Could_ an upper world turtle eat the lettuce from the underworld? He frowned. Perhaps he'd ask Lady Demeter when he dropped off the many increasingly desperate scrolls of dad asking her to reverse her eternal winter; Hermes couldn't really remember other seasons anymore. If she doused him with chill for daring to ask, well, so much more reason to hide down here, safe and warm with Charon.

Hm. He thought of Chelly in his bag, and looked back at Charon, at his warm cowl and an idea sped through his mind. A good idea. A great idea, even!

Hermes should have continued on to Hades' halls, but instead, he took the chance of being slightly late (and what could Hades do if he were, beyond give a slightly longer lecture?): he jumped onto Charon's boat.

 _Chahhh?_ Charon asked; he was surprised. Hermes floated up until he could be face to face with Charon, gently pressed a kiss to his skeletal cheek. With his fast fingers, he gave Charon a reverse five-finger discount; he took Chelly from his bag and tucked her in Charon's cowl. She'd be kept safe and warm, and Hermes knew there was no better place for a soul than in Charon's capable fingers. He gently smiled and held his cheek as he took in Charon's glittering eyes.

 _Grraaaarghhh?_ Charon asked, somehow asking _are you sure_ and _what are you doing_ at the same time. Hermes smirked. 

"Just wanted to say it's a date!" He said, and winked, and then he stepped once more on the boat, creating a large spray that would soak Charon's cloak just a _little_ bit. It would air off soon enough after all. Fair was fair. "Watch over Chelly until I get back!"

 _Chrrgghh!_ Charon screamed in delighted response, but Hermes ignored it, already dreaming of the date that awaited him at the end of his work.


End file.
